The Wondrous Pain of Letting Go

25. Folie

Folie (French): Madness

Things have been getting steadily worse. I went to an appointment with Dr. Jacobs which consisted of a lot of unanswered questions and a growing frustration inside me. It probably doesn't help that I've eaten less than 800 calories a day for the past four days and I've pretty much given up on sleep. The nightmares are out of control. It's like they appear the minute I close my eyes and I can still see them when I'm awake. I'm 90% sure my body is made of caffeine by now. I've managed to put on a good face these last few days. We celebrated Hennessy's birthday, exchanged our Christmas gifts and everyone had a good time. I'm sure I would've too if I actually tried. No one seemed to notice my lack of mental awareness which I'm grateful for. I'm getting very tired of hearing the phrase "Are you okay?" directed at me.

New Year's came and went without much of a celebration. Jake was forced to spend some time with his father, who is currently at a rehab facility for his drinking and anger problems. He doesn't really like to talk about it but we can all see how hard this is on Jake. He's trying to be strong for us and for his brother, but his facade is slowly cracking. I of all people know what that looks like. My life is slowly falling apart before my eyes and sometimes I'm unaware of it.

I often find myself at the memory tree. The first time I went because I thought if I got out of the house for a bit people would stop worrying about me so much. It wasn't until after I left that I realized I didn't really know where to go. So I walked around aimlessly until I stumbled upon the path that lead to the beautiful memorial. I find it quite peaceful here, and I like the feeling of tracing the names with my fingers as if that makes me connected to them somehow. Even though it's abnormally cold out today and it's definitely going to snow soon, I still sit under the tree.

I've brought my journal with me because for some reason I've taken to writing letters. It was suggested by Dr. Jacobs and of course I thought the idea was ridiculous at the time, but it's actually kind of calming. At first I wrote letters to no one in particular, or maybe they were to myself, but I wrote all the things I want to say but can't. Eventually I started writing to actual people in my life. I write to my mom and tell her about my day, because she always asks but I never find the words to answer. I write to my brothers and I tell them that I appreciate everything they've done for me, but I wish they would go back to living their own lives. Of course I write to Adam, and I talk to him like nothings changed and we're still idiot teenage boys that party and goof off and think they're the shit. Lately I just write to Hennessy. I tell her how I like that her hair always smells like coconut and rain, and that just thinking about her smile makes me blush like nothing else. I tell her about the thoughts screaming inside my head because I like to think that she would actually listen, even if she can't really understand. I tell her how that if things were different I might ask her to be my girlfriend and that I'd probably fall in love with her faster than I could blink. I write all the things I want to tell her but can never force the words from my lips.

Lastly, I write to Shawn. I think that's who I've always been writing to. I can almost imagine him sitting beside me. Sometimes I can almost hear his responses. It's like I'm actually talking to him. Sometimes I believe that if he were here he'd be disappointed in me. I wouldn't blame him. But then again maybe he'd understand. I tell him that I miss him, and I ask him for forgiveness. Deep down I know that his death was not my fault. It was a freak accident. Yet somehow I can't escape the crushing guilt that consumes me. I'd pretty much give anything to have him be here with me. Unfortunately life doesn't work like that. So I'm stuck here in the freezing cold, sitting under a tree, and writing the words that will never escape my throat.

~~~~~~~

Dinner is the worst part of my day. I can feel my whole family watch me while pretending not to. It makes me want to scream at them. I've taken to cutting my food into small pieces and pushing it around my plate to make it seem as though I'm eating. Sometimes I even bring the fork to my lips but no food ever gets past. It seemed to work for the past couple of nights. Apparently not tonight.

"Nick, honey, I wish you'd eat more of your dinner you've barely touched it." my mom sighs and gives me a tired scold.

Yeah and I wish you would just fucking leave me alone. I thought. Apparently I didn't just think it though because when I looked up everyone was staring at me with wide eyes. So when I want to speak the words disappear on my tongue but when I don't want to they apparently roll out without warning. Fucking great.

"We're just worried about you Nick. We're not as stupid as you think and we know that you're having a hard time but you can't just push us away." my mom was basically crying as she spoke and it made my guilt immediately intensify.

I'm such a fuckup.

Without looking up from my plate I whisper out a pathetic "I'm sorry" before excusing myself from the table. I definitely wasn't hungry anymore. Sitting on the floor of my room I waited to see who would be the one to come check on me. The minutes ticked by and no one came. I was struck with a sudden feeling of panic. They've probably given up on me. They don't want to have to deal with their screwed up son/brother anymore and I can't really blame them, but the feeling still brought a steady panic coursing through my body. And so for the third time in four months I had an intense panic attack, but this time I was all alone.